The woods where once I walked
I glimpsed them from the train
From thirty years ago
I still saw in my mind
Catkins and budding leaves
The dappled light of spring
And kingcups by the stream
And bluebells under the trees
As I glimpsed the woods from the train.
But now the trees stood bare
Like a parade of ghosts
In the clammy winter fog
And the grass lay seared with frost
And no-one walked in the woods
And the train swept on to the north.
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